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Nov 2016
We, are the forest's rouges,
We live here bandoned by those
Who we loved, but no more, of course.

We all have left our homes, searching for place
Where we'd live with out a pain to face.
And so at last we found the place.

Here in the forest live
In treehouses mostly we live
So no one, trust me, will make us leave.

Under the ground we have our shrine,
Of luck, of freedom, of moon, let'em shine!
Here we greet our new comrades each time.

And we perform our rites every night
As we dance, as we sing, as we fight
Our souls keep shining bright

The forest is surrounded by ruins of an ancient nation
It's magic is our never broken protection
Not a chance for the intervention.

Sometimes we give moon the homage
Get home and take out fearless revenge
As  go on a bittersweet rampage.

Run away if you are where you don't belong.
At midnight come and find  a golden rose yet the search might take long
Once you do tell a story and sing 'bout freedom a song.
Dmytro from Trotskiev
Written by
Dmytro from Trotskiev  21/M/Ukraine
(21/M/Ukraine)   
442
   Xan Abyss and NV
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